Chapter 1: Cured of You

The day before our wedding, I caught Julian Sterling sleeping with my best friend on the sofa. Blinded by rage, I retaliated by sleeping with three of his friends.

I deliberately left clues for him to find—on his desk, in the passenger seat of his sports car, and all over his office.

When Julian found out, he simply stubbed out his cigarette, got all three guys on a group call, and asked, "So, did you all sleep with her? How was it?"

The guys on the line just laughed, trading jokes as if it meant nothing.

"She's flexible."

"She was alright, I guess, but a bit stiff. Not as good as the actress I'm seeing."

"Come on, Mr. Sterling, did you never teach her a thing or two? She's pretty inexperienced."

He thought my entire revenge act was hilarious. He didn't care at all.

That was what finally broke me. I suffered a severe mental breakdown.

Julian had me committed to a psychiatric hospital, where I spent a year in treatment until I recovered.

Now, looking out my window, I watched a Bentley pull into the courtyard and cut its engine.

Julian was here to pick me up.

He had actually remembered to come get me, but I no longer had any idea how to love him.

A nurse pushed open the door. "Ms. Sinclair? Mr. Sterling finished your discharge papers. You're free to go."

I nodded, feeling entirely numb.

Walking down the hall toward the exit, I caught the nurses whispering behind my back. "It's so sad. Her fiancé is the reason she had a breakdown."

"Sad? Please. Her fiancé is gorgeous, loaded, and buys her whatever she wants. It's not like he hits her. She should've just turned a blind eye to the cheating. She has no idea how good she has it."

A year ago, hearing that would have made me scream. Today, I didn't even break my stride.

Julian was leaning against the Bentley.

I walked up to him. He reached out, brushing my cheek with his index finger. "You've lost weight."

I turned my head away, dodging his touch.

His hand hung in the air for a second before he let it drop.

He pulled open the passenger door. "Get in."

A used tube of lipstick was resting on the passenger seat.

I picked it up. Julian snatched it out of my hand, rolled down the window, and tossed it outside.

"My assistant is always leaving her stuff in here. Just ignore it."

I offered a faint smile but kept my mouth shut. I knew the brand perfectly well; it was my best friend Vivian Thorne's absolute favorite.

It was fine, though. I truly didn't care anymore.

Sitting at a red light, Julian started drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "I cut things off with her completely," he said out of nowhere. "I threw out that sofa and bought a new one. It's the style you like."

"Okay," I replied quietly.

He kept going. "I had the staff clean your things every day. They aren't dusty."

"Thank you," I said with a slight smile.

Julian looked over at me, his expression entirely unreadable.

He pulled a small red velvet box from his pocket. "I ordered a new ring. The diamond's bigger than the old one. Do you like it?"

I didn't reach for the box. "We should call off the wedding," I said.

Julian didn't take me seriously. He just rolled his eyes and tossed the box into my lap.

"Stop making a fuss. I slept with your best friend, and you slept with three of my friends. If you do the math, you actually slept with two more people than I did, so we're even.

"I promised to marry you, and I still will. Stop being mad."

I stared down at the box in my hands. I didn't argue. I just offered a sad little smile.

I wasn't dropping the subject to be difficult. I was already planning to move away—not to some fancy city like this, but to the small village where my parents were buried. Julian wouldn't be there, so I wouldn't have to be sad.

The car pulled into the driveway of the villa.

Everything looked exactly the same.

Once inside, I walked right past our shared bedroom and dragged my suitcase down the hall toward the guest room.

Julian stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "What are you doing?"

"I've gotten used to sleeping alone at the hospital." I shot a glance back toward our old room. "Besides, I refuse to sleep in that bed."

The day I found out about him and Vivian, I had checked the house cameras. I saw they hadn't just slept together on the living room sofa. They had done it in the custom bed he ordered just for me. Watching that video had hurt like hell.

Julian stared at me for a few seconds before letting out a short, dismissive laugh. "Suit yourself. But don't take it too far. You always do this. Don't cause another mental breakdown and end up right back in the hospital."

I watched him walk away, not feeling a single ounce of the sadness that would have crushed me a year ago.

The treatment had actually worked. I had completely forgotten what it felt like to love him, or to let his actions control how I felt.

Later that night, I tossed and turned, struggling to fall asleep. After a year on a stiff hospital mattress, the plush bed felt entirely uncomfortable.